The Boozy Douche Cruise

A few years ago I went on my first cruise and sailed with Carnival. It was five nights of some of the most fun I've ever had. I got lots of sun on the deck, ate delicious Mexican food, including real fish tacos, drank margaritas on the beach, and unplugged from the rest of the world. I even saw a flying fish outside the window of the cabin. I loved it and couldn't wait to do it again.

So when an opportunity to cruise with my friends in The Little Black Dress Club came up, of course I signed up for it. Cruising with the girls, new destinations, and another vacation with the bestie. It had all of the ingredients for a really good, really fun girl time. Plus, I'd sailed on Carnival before so I knew what to expect.

Only I didn't. Carnival is the "fun ship," which many people have equated to being the party ship. Because that wasn't my experience the first time, that wasn't my expectation this time.

I'm not sure when it started, exactly. I think it might have been during the muster safety review. First of all, nobody would shut up long enough to get it over with so I stood there glaring at people every time the cruise director got on the intercom and asked everyone to be completely silent. But that wasn't the worst. The worst was when one of our girls texted us to say that a guy in their area was "aroused" and rubbing said arousal on people around him. It was later reported that he was drunk and didn't know what he had done. We hadn't even left port yet and already someone was nicknamed Boner Boy.

I did, admittedly, get white girl wasted that first night. I'm going to blame it on the guys we met next door who probably thought they'd get a little lucky if we got a little (or a shit ton) liquored up. Little did they know my tolerance level is a hundred times higher than the bimbos they are probably used to, and that I also prefer hanging out with older men and the one extremely flamboyant gay that I found. They were so unhappy with his presence they were smashed up against the wall on the other side of the room from him. Haters.

Still, the only embarrassing thing I did was to follow my new gay friend to the nightclub in my tank top and boxer shorts with no shoes. I was barely dressed, but the crew members had a problem with my lack of shoe attire and told me I couldn't be on the dance floor. I guess being half naked and without-a-doubt wasted wasn't a problem for them. I had a brief moment of cognizance where I realized how idiotic I probably looked and also that I needed to not leave my best friend in our room with strange, unattractive men.

The next night we became aware of the frat boy bachelor party on board. The groom stumbled past us on the way to his dinner table. We saw him in various states of undress as the night progressed. Shirt untucked. Shirt halfway unbuttoned. Shirt all the way unbuttoned. Finally, he careened past us, alone, with no shirt on close to one in the morning. Honestly, I'm surprised he was upright at all.

On subsequent nights we watched half of this group of boys cougar hunting. Over 40 and married? This was their targeted prey. Huntress becomes the hunted.

The women on the cruise weren't any better. There were all kinds of body parts falling out of articles of clothing. I don't know if there is less gravity at sea or what I have to thank for not seeing anything actually exposed to truly obscene limits.

And the gossip. When have you ever heard of gossip between vacationing strangers? Well, it appears that one of the guys from the frat boy bachelor party hooked up with the bride in one of the bachelorette parties. Maybe that's where I went wrong. I might not be divorced now if I had celebrated my impending nuptials by sleeping with a random douchebag days before the ceremony.

Now, ladies. Listen up and never let me catch you behaving so ferociously to your fellow womankind. We overheard (or, rather were meant to hear) the most hateful remarks directed our way. "I hope you bring your beer goggles" was the first gauntlet thrown. Another favorite? "And I thought we were old!" I saw more women trying to pee on "their" trees in one hour than I've seen my dog do in his lifetime. Not to mention the up-and-down looks, glares, and sneers. Girls, girls. This behavior is unattractive, unappealing, and completely unnecessary. Do you really want to act out against your sisters like this for a guy who won't remember your name the next day because he's too focused on his next conquest? Respect yourselves and each other.

If any of this isn't enough to deter you from booking with Carnival, I can tell you all about how bad the food was. Or how our cabin steward couldn't remember to leave more than one glass for two people. Or how he was too lazy to hang up our towels. Or that there was a ghetto girl fight in the dining room. No punches were thrown, but a dish was broken.

There were times I felt so uncomfortable that I didn't mind it raining half the trip. It gave us an excuse to take naps under our cozy covers and watch movies in peace. Take a vacation from the assholery outside our door.

Oh, yes. Fun ship indeed.

Honesty

Last night D's friend came for a sleepover. M hadn't been over before, it's sort of a new friendship. We introduced her to the glorious trash that is The Bachelor Pad. I hoped it wasn't corrupting her too badly.

At 3:30 in the morning D came in my room and woke me up. "Mom? I need to talk to you." She sounded panicked and laid down on my bed with me. She started crying so I curled her into me.

"We had shots of vodka."
Why would you do that?
"M wanted to. I'm sorry. Are you mad?"
I'm disappointed. And concerned. But not mad.
"She got drunk and started saying crazy things. I hate it when people get drunk."
That's why alcohol is for adults.
"It scared me. I'm sorry. Will I throw up?"
How do you feel?
"Okay."
You won't throw up.
"Don't tell my dad."
Okay.
"Don't tell her dad. Please."
Everyone gets one hall pass.
"I'm sorry. I don't ever want to do it again. I love you."
I love you too.

She slept in my bed with me. I checked on M to make sure she didn't need any sort of medical attention. And then I lay there. Trying to decide the Right Thing To Do.

D asked me not to tell. Trust between us is Paramount. I need for her to feel safe. To tell me things. But I like M's dad and I respect him and I think he should know what his daughter is doing. Everyone can make a mistake but I get the feeling this isn't her first time.

Being the adult isn't fun. Being a parent is hard. I think the jury is still out on this one.

Right now the only thing I Know is how much I Love My Kid. I fail as a parent on a daily basis but at least I'm doing one thing right. It might be just one, but it's a big one.